When does fair become unfair? When does sacrifice become murder? When does sanity become insanity? When does humanity become inhumanity? When does good become evil? When do beginnings become ends?
It’s so easy, isn’t it? Turning your employees into dogs.
‘Bark’, ‘bite’, ‘sit’, ‘roll over’, ‘beg, beg, beg’!
Top Architect? Top Dreamer? You’ve got to be kidding me, right? Wave a bone in their faces and they’ll do anything to get it—is that it? Is that what we are to you?
This is just too typical.
The lights in the sky are waving goodbye,
and I am standing right beside you.
I suppose there’s one thing I should thank you for. Giving me the assignment of Toulouse Milo. Making me his partner. Joining us.
Someone like him… he’s made me forget my own brother. He’s made me forget everything.
I won’t let you have him. Not entirely.
Today marks 5 years. 5 years, 7 months, 19 minutes, and 3 seconds.
I wore special clothes for him today—the ones I last wore before we were taken into this place and, in turn, had been given their own choices of attire. They always reassured him that our stay here was temporary, that soon, we’d be all right.
He’s not going to get to see them.
Not for another 12 months.
Are you satisfied? Are you pleased? Do you want me to say it? Do you want me to confess that you may have a little power over me? Do you like toying with me? I’ve given you enough, haven’t I?
Why?
Why are you doing this? Why are you keeping us here? You don’t need me! Only he does! There are better architects out there! Better minds! Your options are limitless, but he has only me!
He only has me… you’re punishing the wrong person, you sick fucks… can’t you understand that?
There have been a few things on my mind, today.
I was thinking about Alik. I’ll get to see him soon. I wonder how he’s been holding up, how he’s dealt with your bullshit all year long. I hope he’s still smiling. He wasn’t smiling as often during our last visit, he mostly held onto me. Like he was scared. Like he was beginning to lose hope. Doesn’t he know? Only six—no, five more years. Only five, and we’re out of here. Gone. Forever. I’ll be sure to emphasize that during our upcoming visit.
I was also thinking about Blanche. Yeah. I found out about him. You won’t catch him. Trust me, that guy’s one Hell of a pain in the ass. I’m almost glad to see him off. Good for him; good for me.
And then there’s Toulouse. Fucking… Toulouse. I just don’t know what to make of him. One minute he’s making me laugh, another he’s got me pissed off. He’s impressing me and outsmarting me all at once. He’s accepting me and challenging me all at once. He’s working with me and yet making a fool of me all at once. He’s driving me mad. But I just can’t hate him. Not at all.
I bet you’re all getting a laugh out of this, aren’t you? The Lead Architect is having a little bit of problems with a new Dreamer. Oh, dear!
Sometimes I wonder if I’m the experiment instead.
I’ve got to admit it—after just one session, I can see why you would want to keep such an eye on this guy.
Toulouse Milo. Quite the character.
I wouldn’t have guessed it myself just from seeing him around here, but he actually has the kind of mind that you just can’t fully crack into, am I right? Full of surprises, full of emotions, full of secrets. And you want me to dissect him until he has nothing left to give. You want me to destroy him until you’re satisfied.
Sick bastards, you are.
4 years,
11 months,
25 days,
9 hours,
42 minutes,
9… 10… 11 seconds.
And what a joyride it’s been.
See, this is all I can do in a place like this: count the time. What crime did I commit to carry the burden of watching dust collect onto the glass of my room’s walls day-in and day-out?
Oh, but I must not forget the pleasure I have of being the very crucial, very praised Lead Architect in the Sleep Studies division, providing comfort and terror on nightly basis’s, readying our finest men and women for every day life and every day combat—er… well, it can’t even be called that, now can it? ‘Kidnapping’? ‘Brainwashing’? ‘Deception’? What, do you not like these ugly words?
Is that why you instructed me to create these logs? Do you want me to praise you? Do you want me to butter you up and tell you how I’ll never, ever leave you?
Promote me all you want. Threaten me all you want.
You don’t control me. Not entirely. Remember that, okay? <3
